


What's In A Name?

by MissSunFlower94



Series: Illustrations of a Wizard in Love [1]
Category: Mairelon the Magician - Patricia Wrede
Genre: F/M, Kim will always call him Mairelon, Vignettes, and Richard wouldn't want it any other way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSunFlower94/pseuds/MissSunFlower94
Summary: Mairelon the Magician is the latest in a long, storied history of the fake identities of Richard Merrill. Meeting Kim turns it into something else altogether.





	What's In A Name?

Richard Merrill had a penchant for theatrics.

It was a trait nearly all family, friends, and acquaintances could agree upon – although the degree of fondness in which they described this attribute varied widely from person to person.

Far as any of his family could attest, this had always been the case. His mother could and did readily give account of the various characters he would create and masquerade as in his youth, sometimes not answering to his real name for weeks at a time. He enjoyed the playacting, the assumption of a role, the fabrication of another person with different accents, different attitudes, different likes and dislikes. The personas were always intricately detailed, as if – even as a child – he was waiting for someone to question the validity of his alias.

It was this knack, among a many others, that had made him rather a good spy during his time on the Continent. Indeed like in his childhood, there were weeks – months even – where he did not, _could_ not, answer to the name Merrill. He took on a handful of names, some meant to last for extended periods of time, some he put on only for a night or two, some he was able to recycle in different towns, and some meant to disappear or even die while Richard slipped easily away and into another life.

Indeed, Mairelon the Magician was the latest in a long, storied history of the fake identities of Richard Merrill and, if he was being entirely honest, was not even his finest creation. It was meant to last a couple of weeks at most and, if things went smoothly, would simply fade into obscurity when the ruse was no longer necessary.

Meeting Kim turned it into something else altogether.

* * *

 

She had figured out his name within two days of knowing him – not for his lack of trying. He knew folk of her upbringing, and likely especially girls, had to be uncommonly shrewd if they were to stay alive, but Kim took that to a level the likes of which he had never seen. There were times where she made some of his and Shoreham’s colleagues look positively _slow_.

“Under another name, of course.”

“Richard Merrill?” She said dryly and he had to smile.

After four weeks of being Mairelon the Magician (or at least announcing himself as such; a market performer didn’t exactly gather a list of intimate acquaintances), and upwards of four years as different aliases of varying repute in France, Richard had almost physically started at hearing his real name. Kim said it with a degree of smugness that wasn’t entirely unwarranted, but there was no familiarity with the name, or the life that went with it. It was the first time he realized that Kim knew _Mairelon_ first, and Richard Merrill second – if at all.

On the surface, he considered himself glad of that fact for it would mean she was in no danger of slipping and calling him the wrong name in earshot of anyone who- well, of anyone at all, with the state of their search for the Saltash Set being as convoluted as it was. But beyond that, perhaps it was the fact that there was quite a bit of weight that went with his name at the time, but it felt… nice to not have to be Richard Merrill, at least for a little longer.

* * *

 

There was a way Kim said his name – or rather, the name _Mairelon_ – that Richard found utterly delightful; with such profound exasperation, as if the name was an insult, a question, an appeal to a higher power for some sort of sense. There were times he found himself being deliberately obtuse, for no purpose other than to hear her say it.

It wasn’t as though Kim was the first person to find him exasperating; it was a common thread among most of his friends. Furthermore, it was a quality that tended to transfer to every persona he took on – too much fun to put aside entirely no matter the name he used. But Mairelon the Magician, he felt, had probably retained the most of Richard Merrill’s charmingly vexing attitude.

In all honesty, Richard hadn’t given much thought into creating any kind of personality beyond a stage performer’s presence. It hadn’t felt necessary; offstage he was still _Master Richard_ with Hunch, simply _Richard_ with Shoreham, _Monsieur Merrill_ with Renee. But with Kim… it was one of the best things about their initial time together – which Richard would always look back on with more fondness than the events themselves might have warranted. With Kim, _Mairelon_ felt less like an alias and more like an extension of himself, perhaps not his _best_ qualities but his truest ones.

Besides, he had been called Richard in every scandalized tone imaginable and he found it never sounded quite as delightful as when Kim called him Mairelon.

* * *

 

Andrew’s question (“Will you be coming home now?”) was simple and required a simple, nearly automatic answer – and still Richard hesitated.

Of course, there were obvious reasons for that hesitation; word of the recovery of the Saltash Set would take time. Returning to London before the news had circulated was a recipe for all the sorts of complications he had spent the last few years specifically trying to avoid.

But it was more than that; Richard had not actively been _Mr. Richard Merrill_ for several years, and perversely taking the name again felt a bit like putting on a new identity rather than returning to his first one. His real one.

That was an uncomfortable thought, especially after everything had just finally, _finally_ turned out for the best, so Richard turned his focus to something more pressing and more enjoyable. Kim, and the concept of taking her on as an apprentice. She was more than a little awe-struck when her affinity for magic was pointed out, but her acceptance to his offer of tutoring was gratifyingly enthusiastic.

Discussion returned to how best to release news of the Set’s retrieval, but Richard met Kim’s eyes again more than once, met with a smile both dazed and delighted.

Yes, he thought then. This would be very enjoyable. 

* * *

 

Richard hadn’t truly realized how very used to being Mairelon he was until he and Kim returned to London, and he had to once again deal with some of the more ridiculous rules of Society.

As his ward, as a young woman in respectable circles, it was, of course, proper for Kim to refer to him as _Mr. Merrill_. But Kim didn’t see the point in performative respectability any more than he did, and so his aunt’s repeated reprimands fell on deaf ears, to Richard’s immense relief.

When they’d been together in Kent they’d had little interruption from anyone save the barest number of servants needed to keep the estate from falling into disrepair, and Richard had had no real reason (or desire) to answer to anything other than Mairelon. The name, a name he’d chosen to give a market performer meant to last perhaps a month or two, had come to feel utterly right in a way he didn’t know how to explain. With Kim, he didn’t need to.

Their studies together, which had already been enjoyable in Kent, began to feel a little like a refuge for the two of them in London – a time out of their days where the exhausting expectations of Polite Society needed not apply. A time where Miss. Kim Merrill could be Kim again, be _herself_ without questioning what others might be thinking of her. A time where Mr. Richard Merrill could be… well, _Mairelon_. Kim’s Mairelon.

He couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much, any time she called him Mr. Merrill, it simply did.

* * *

 

“ _Mairelon_.” Kim nearly growled the name, her name for him. “You’re just as annoying foxed as you are sober.”

He probably was, he reflected absently. He could have focused on being less foxed – or rather, less annoyingly so – but right then all Richard could focus on was how she looked exceptionally lovely in the dimly lit library. She’d always been lovely, always wore that expression, a mixture of fondness and exasperation, so becomingly. He doubted she had ever looked at Lord Franton like _that_.

What was it the young Marquis had said to him earlier that evening? “I know I appear to be acting in haste but, far as I can determine, I am not the only gentleman your apprentice has charmed-” (and he’d smiled then, as if they were _friends_ ) “- and while she’s given me no reason to doubt her regard for me, I’d prefer to not allow anyone the chance to plead their case too convincingly.”

 _No reason to doubt her regard_ …

Good Lord, he knew the man had been paying her a great deal of attention in the past weeks, but had he really missed her singling him out the same way? Perhaps he had just refused to see it.

In fact, Richard was seeing that there was quite a bit he had – willfully or otherwise – missed over the past weeks. From Kim’s growth into a respectable and enchanting member of London Society (even when that had been the goal in arranging for her come-out in the first place) to, more startlingly, his feelings for her (noticed so late in the game that he couldn’t even say when they had begun).

As for her regard for _him_?

He wasn’t going to fool himself. Fondness and exasperation did not a romance make.

* * *

 

He preferred her exasperated, much preferred it to worried and upset. He’d prefer Kim any way other than upset – even angry with him was better than the way she looked at him when he explained the worst-case-scenario of the Duchesse’s spell.

Richard couldn’t keep looking at her, not when she expressed her worry for him – _especially_ then. He knew he ought to appreciate her concern, and found himself saying as much, but truthfully he didn’t appreciate any of this. The loss of his magic hurt him enough as it was, he hated the idea of any of this situation hurting _her_. He never wanted to hurt her.  

“Mairelon...” She said his name so softly, so gently, like it was a breakable thing. And right then, it truly felt like it was. Richard had been Mairelon, _Kim_ ’s Mairelon, Mairelon _the Magician_ , for over a year. Perhaps he wasn’t losing her to a marriage (yet, he miserably reminded himself), but without his magic what could he possibly offer her? What was he to her – to anyone?

He tried to downplay how afraid he really was, and as always with Kim – his clever, oh-so-observant Kim – she saw right through him. But at least that made her frustrated, and Richard could finally look at her again.

* * *

* * *

 

“Mairelon?” His love says dizzily from the ballroom floor, shaken but alive from whatever she had apparently just rescued him from. She smiles weakly and Richard thinks that he wants to spend his life with her.  

“Mairelon...” his bride-to-be sighs, fond and familiar exasperation coloring her tone and expression. Her nose wrinkles adorably and Richard thinks that she is the most delightful creature he has ever known. 

“Mairelon,” his wife murmurs between kisses on their wedding night, her breath warm against his lips, her fingers gripping his hair. 

And Richard thinks that he has never loved that name more. 


End file.
